to the top at a point not ten yards from where she stood.

It was with a sense of guilt that she realized she had spied upon this
man, and her cheeks flushed as she cast about desperately for a means
to escape unseen. But no such avenue presented itself, and she drew
back into a deep crevice of her rock pinnacle lest he see her.

A grubby, stunted pine somehow managed to gain sustenance from the
stray earth among the rock cracks and screened her hiding-place. The
man was very close, now. She could hear his heavy breathing and the
click of his boot heels upon the bare rocks. Then he crossed to the
very verge of the precipice and seated himself with his feet hanging
over the edge. For some moments he sat gazing out over the bad lands,
and then his hand slipped into the front of his shirt and withdrew a
bottle of whiskey.

The girl's lips tightened as she watched him from behind her screen of
naked roots and branches. He looked a long time at the bottle, shook
it, and held it to the sun as he contemplated the little beads that
sparkled at the edge of the liquor line. He read its label, and seemed
deeply interested in the lines of fine print contained upon an oval
sticker that adorned its back. Still holding the bottle, he once more
stared out over the bad lands. Then he drew the cork and smelled of
the liquor, breathing deeply of its fragrance, and turning, gazed
intently toward the little white tent beside the stunted pines.

Alice saw that his eyes were serious as he set the bottle upon the rock
beside him. And then, hardly discernible at first, but gradually
assuming distinct form, a whimsical smile curved his lips as he looked
at the bottle.